


Nooo

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 06:57:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13699236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis clearly doesn’t know what he’s asking Ignis for.





	Nooo

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Noctis likes sweets, but he doesn't know what a creampie is and determined to get one. Iggy is embarrassed.” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/841.html?thread=659273#cmt659273).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Pizza isn’t particularly nutritious, but at least he can hide vegetables beneath the cheese, and there’s still a reasonable chance that Noctis will eat it. Ignis chops them as finely as he can so they’ll be as difficult to pick out as possible. Noctis still seems to enjoy his homemade pizza, even if they are laced with subterfuge.

Although, it does seem a moot point when Noctis is actually watching him cook. Most days, Noctis completely ignores him, comes home from school and plops down in front of the television or disappears into a phone screen. Tonight, Ignis can feel Noctis’ heated gaze boring holes into the back of his neck. But he tries to ignore it. He dices up a cheery tomato and tries to get as little juice on his fingers as he can.

Behind him, Noctis says, “Ignis.”

Years of deference to Noctis have Ignis answering, “Yes?” Even though he knows what’s coming.

Sure enough, Noctis asks, “What are you making for dessert?”

It pains Ignis to say, “There will be no dessert.” Perhaps it’s for the best. Noctis eats unhealthily enough as it is. But Ignis _hates_ denying him. 

Ignis doesn’t have to turn around to know that Noctis is pouting. He can hear it, feel it. Noctis mutters, “If you don’t give me one, I’ll just go out and buy it.”

“There are no restaurants within delivery distance that will serve that... particular... item.” It’s not a lie, exactly. It’s just off base, like Noctis’ question.

Noctis only counters, “All the more reason why you should give me one.”

“I’m sorry, Noct, but the answer is no.”

Noctis growls in frustration and hits low: “Iggy, I _order_ you to give it to me.”

Ignis takes a steadying breath. His hands are shaking lightly, almost imperceptibly. It’s an awful position to be in. 

He’s rescued by the door, creaking open from the hallway before Ignis has a chance to answer. Ignis deliberately looks over and desperately hopes that whoever it is will distract Noctis from the current line of inquiry. A minute later, Gladiolus slips out into the living area.

“Hey,” he grunts, nodding at each of them in turn. “’Was just passing by, and figured I’d stop and see if there’s anything for dinner.”

“Certainly,” Ignis promises, latching onto the invitation, even though he wasn’t planning on making that many pizzas. Gladiolus eats like an animal, but Ignis can manage that. There should be enough dough left, and he can grate some more cheese. He doesn’t have to sneak as many vegetables into Gladiolus’ share—Gladiolus takes care of himself well enough. “It should be about ten minutes.”

Gladiolus grins and chirps, “Thanks, Specs.” Then he thrusts his hands down into his pockets, leaning casually back against the doorframe. He asks Noctis, “So, what’s up?”

Noctis grumbles in a terrible whine, “Ignis won’t give me a creampie!”

Ignis’ back goes rigid. He’s sure his face has turned a horrible shade of red. He angles his body away from Gladiolus so there won’t be any witnesses to his growing embarrassment.

There’s about half a minute of silence before Gladiolus bursts out laughing. Noctis just asks, “What?”

Gladiolus practically wheezes around his continued fit out laughter, “You don’t know what that means.”

“Of course I do,” Noctis huffs back, even though he rather obviously doesn’t. “A pie with cream in the middle—it’s not rocket science.”

“Oh yeah? And where’d you hear that?”

“Some boys at school wanted to give a girl one.”

Gladiolus takes in a breath and seems to wait for the chuckles to die out before he manages, “As much as Iggy loves you, I think he’s gotta draw the line there.”

“But—”

“C’mon, kid. I think you and I need a little man-to-man talk about what exactly it is you’re asking him to do for you.”

Gladiolus moves out of the doorway, bee-lining for Noctis. Ignis pauses his work to reach for the kitchen radio and turn it up, hoping to tune them out. He continues to make Noctis dinner, face redder than the peppers.


End file.
